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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25141837">ragged diagonal</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thalius/pseuds/Thalius'>Thalius</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Blood and Injury, Canon Divergence - Order 66, Canon Divergence - Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Impromptu Field Surgeries, Mostly hurt, who the fuck is rots i dont know her</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 02:15:49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,645</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25141837</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thalius/pseuds/Thalius</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The general never was good at following orders.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>CC-2224 | Cody &amp; Obi-Wan Kenobi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>449</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>ragged diagonal</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p><i>“The line of life is a ragged diagonal between duty and desire.”</i><br/>— William R Alger</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Tremendous pressure in his skull. Something sharp throbbed in there that did not belong; it struck further inwards with each heartbeat, travelling from his temple down into the meat of his brain. Reaching for his chest, palm flat to his cuirass, Cody wished he could halt it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Registering suddenly that he had control of his hand, he jolted, alert now but not fully awake. His head throbbed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cody took stock of what else he could move. His other hand was mobile, but it was bound to the other at the wrist. His legs worked; toes, calves, knees, thighs. Good. Spine he could rotate without pain—but he was lying on the ground. The sandy sound beneath his head whenever he moved it made sense now. But it was cushioned by something; a bedroll.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That also meant he wasn’t wearing a helmet. He breathed in; that worked, too. It hurt like hell, though. He smelled blood when he inhaled. Blood and bacta and gravel.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cody opened a single eye, and only a smidge. If there had been light before, it was gone now. Confident he wouldn’t further aggravate his pounding head, he blinked his eyes open. He’d been wrong; there was some weak light, far away, dry. Not reflecting off water. He was in a cave, he determined. The rock above him was close, perhaps too close to allow standing. With no immediate plans to attempt such a thing, he catalogued the detail for later.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Keeping his head still, only a narrow slice of the cave was available to him. He was terrified of moving it, terrified of what would—or would not—happen if he tried. Flash bangs didn’t hurt that bad. He could still hear, too, out of both of his ears. What the hell had happened?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cody tried to wet his lips and found no moisture in his mouth. Great. Inhaling again, he brought his arm—both arms, since they were bound—up to his face, trying to reach for the commlink at his wrist. He had to contact… someone. He hadn’t figured out who yet. Tack would be a good bet; he definitely needed a medic, whatever was going on.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Squinting down at his forearm, he found no commlink. Or anything at all. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cody frowned. Both vambraces were gone, leaving only his undersuit, gloves, and the binders. Right. The binders. He’d probably been captured. Since when did Seppies take prisoners? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Blinking again, he decided to move his head. Only a little, angling a few degrees to his right. There was no way to tell which cardinal direction that was, not without the sun or his helmet. The cave ceiling followed him as he tracked right, his vision remaining stable. No additional piercing pain, no numbness. That was a good sign. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He continued turning his head until he found something that was not rock or shadow. Pale brown fabric, cut into the figure of a V, a bowed head with sandy hair. The general.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His heart thundered at the sight. The throbbing in his head became unbearable. It hadn’t been a flash bang at all.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cody struggled. Against the binders, against the pain, against the gravity on this planet that felt too heavy and hard. He tried to clear his throat and coughed instead. He tried to speak—only a wheeze came out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kenobi shifted at the sound. He’d been meditating, maybe, or sleeping. His head rose, the weak light cutting his face in two halves, the bridge of his nose a neat delineation. The eye not cast in shadow shone a pale blue.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cody tried again, and got something out this time. “General—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kenobi stood. They </span>
  <em>
    <span>could </span>
  </em>
  <span>stand in this cave, if only barely; an upraised hand trailed along the ceiling as the general walked toward him. His boots echoed loudly in the cave, shifting gravel. It gave Cody a better look at the man—there was a tremendous amount of blood seeped into his robes, which were ripped and torn at odd angles. His hands were stained crimson, the nails ragged red crescents. Blood clotted at his hair where he’d pushed it back from his face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The general knelt down beside him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re awake,” Kenobi whispered, his voice trembling. It never did that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cody shook on the floor. It made his vision blur. “General—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Be still, my friend.” Much steadier now. A splotched red palm pressed to Cody’s chest, but none of the expected wave of calm followed with it. Something was deeply wrong. That, Cody had known for a while, but he </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew</span>
  </em>
  <span> it now. “You’ll need your strength.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sir.” He wet his lips again. “I’m... so sorry—” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kenobi didn’t interrupt him this time; it was the air in his throat that evaporated, cinched tight.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s alright,” the general replied, as if that was it, as if that was all that needed to be said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kenobi reached for something out of sight, and a package crinkled. The smell of bacta renewed itself, sharp and demanding. Like the spike in his brain.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cody moved his hands again. This time they reached for his head, but he was stopped by a hand on his wrist. Kenobi shook his head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t touch. I need to keep it clean.” Laying his hands back down by his waist, Kenobi’s own worked near Cody’s temple. This close, the sour smell of blood replaced the bacta. Was that blood his? Was it the general’s?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Had Cody been the one to make him bleed?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What hap—” He cleared his throat again, coughing. “What happened?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A little field incision,” Kenobi replied lightly, as if discussing the weather. “I hope it holds. I’m no surgeon.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Of course. He never got straight answers out of the general; not when it came to anything aside from battle plans.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cool spread across his forehead, cupping around his brow and down towards his ear. There was a fleeting surface sting, and then relief. He exhaled, letting his lungs deflate. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kenobi tidied up, and Cody looked around, getting his bearings. A plate of surgical instruments balanced themselves on a nearby rock; torn rags piled on the floor beside. No, not rags—the general’s robes. A bottle of disinfectant accompanied them, along with a few canteens of water. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Where did you get—” He coughed again. Why was his throat so dry?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah. A moment.” Kenobi disappeared, then returned to his side. His knee popped with the movement. A hand slipped under Cody’s neck, cupping the back of his head. “I have to sit you up.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Right.” He braced both hands on his left side to help push, but he didn’t do much good. Kenobi seemed to struggle with his weight, but eventually he was upright. Sweat trickled down his face from the exertion, and he closed his eyes. He was out of breath, and he hadn’t even done anything. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Drink, Commander.” A bottle rim at his lips. Cody accepted it, and tepid water filled his mouth, tasting just as stale as the air in the cave. But it soothed his throat, and stopped the inside of his mouth from sticking to his teeth. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He sputtered, and Kenobi brought the bottle away, setting it on the ground. The arm across Cody’s back was keeping him upright, but he saw the harsh pinch at the general’s sweaty brow. He was exhausted, too. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The water would help with his head. Ibuprofen or a heavy narcotic was probably a lot more useful, but those weren’t readily available on Utapau.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He glanced back at the medical instruments. Maybe they were.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Those aren’t from a standard kit,” he murmured, and Kenobi followed his gaze. The general exhaled; it wasn’t a laugh.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” he agreed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Where did you get them?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Off of Tack.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cody closed his eyes and swallowed again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’ll stay here another twenty hours, I think,” the general murmured, and helped Cody back down onto the bedroll. “I heard ships taking off.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“General….”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I have to get some rest,” Kenobi rasped. He’d turned towards the distant mouth of the cave, breathing deep, giving Cody his profile. It was sunken, and ragged. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cody shifted, felt the pull at his wrists, and tugged them up again to get comfortable. The general glanced back at the movement, and a twitch at his mouth almost hinted at a smile.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If you’ll forgive me,” Kenobi said, a few hairs shy of amused. “I just wanted to be sure.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I shot you,” Cody responded. It was agreement and damnation both.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You shot </span>
  <em>
    <span>at</span>
  </em>
  <span> me,” Kenobi corrected him, rolling off his knees with a grunt so that he sat down on the ground beside Cody. “I wasn’t hit.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I didn’t—” His eyes burned, and he blinked the sensation away. “I didn’t mean it.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not offended,” Kenobi said dryly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Unmoored by how absurd their conversation was, Cody drifted. The pain made it hard to sleep; it also made it hard to stay awake. Too conscious for dreams and too fuzzy for thought, he listened instead. The cave dripped and echoed. Outside, the ground trembled. Air vaulted through the sky, screaming along the wings of aircraft. Troopers called, blasters fired. Sounds he knew in his soul; he had known no others. That was not his purpose.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When he surfaced again, he found the general, still awake, but now settled against the cave wall opposite to him. He looked like he was fighting sleep, despite his earlier proclamation of needing it. Or perhaps it had been hours since they’d last spoke, and Kenobi was just now waking. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cody listened. The air was still now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“General,” he called, softly, to the other side of the cave. It wasn’t far. Kenobi looked up, blinking heavily.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How are you feeling?” he asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>What a ridiculous question, Cody thought. He answered it anyway. “Okay, sir,” he assured him. “Head’s not so loud anymore.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s good.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cody paused for breath. He didn’t know what other question to ask, but still didn’t sound right when it came out of his mouth. “What are we going to do now, General?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kenobi looked away. “I don’t know.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He absorbed the admission without a word. The terror was slow to form, but once it was there, it was all he could focus on. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We should contact the others,” Cody said, trying to force some of the fear out, not knowing which others he was talking about. Someone. “See if we can—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They’re dead,” Kenobi said. The interruption wasn’t harsh, but it didn’t need to be. “I felt it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Jedi? Or clones?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Both.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cody struggled, shifting onto his side. “All of them, sir?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t know,” Kenobi whispered again. The terror in Cody’s belly grew. “But a lot of them, yes.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wouldn’t know if Rex was alive, and Cody didn’t bother to ask, no matter how badly he wanted to know. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> know, deep down in his gut, if he thought about it for a moment. There was only one answer to that question.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why’d you….” Cody tilted his head up, towards the cave mouth. “Why’d you bring me here?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“To save you,” Kenobi said—again, his voice was plain, factual. Not without emotion, but carefully controlled. “You saw Rex’s report.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He had, but only because the general had shown him. He’d felt terror then, too. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I told you to run.” They’d been the last words out of his mouth that had been truly his. Until now, anyway. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A shoulder rose in a shrug. “You’ve told me a lot of things over the years.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Right.” Cody tugged at his wrists, which were still bound. “Um. Thank you, sir.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He felt the general’s eyes on him. They weren’t amused, exactly. It was hard to find anything funny right now. But they did twinkle, as if Cody had told a joke. “You’re welcome, Commander.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You really cut the—that chip, out of my head?” He wanted to touch his temple but thought better of it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kenobi nodded tiredly. “I’d seen Master Vokara Che perform surgeries before, a few times. She encouraged Jedi to spectate, and I was always curious.” He wiped his hands on his pants, more habit than good sense. The blood had long since dried. “Force medicine is not my area, but… well, you’ll have a nasty scar, I’m afraid. It’s a messy line. Messy cut,” he added with a mutter, more to himself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His tone was apologetic. Cody was in disbelief. “Sir?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t—” Cody looked up at the ceiling, perhaps to find answers there. “Thank you,” he said again instead.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It took quite a lot to do,” Kenobi whispered. “I won’t be of much use to you for a while.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cody huffed. It was almost a laugh. “Guess we’re even on that front.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And Kenobi almost smiled. “Indeed. Perhaps I should unrestrain you now. I don’t think you’re tricking me. You’re not that good of a liar.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s not a good idea, sir.” Cody looked at the binders. He wasn’t going to kill Obi-Wan; that was why his head was pounding. But that didn’t mean he trusted himself, and Kenobi certainly shouldn’t, either. He couldn’t, ever again, if he had any good sense left in him. It was for the best.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It would be a bit funny, if you killed me now.” Kenobi struggled to his feet, using the wall as a brace. He wasn’t listening to Cody. He never did.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t think it would be funny.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah, well. I trust you, Commander.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You can’t.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The general dug around in one of the pouches at his belt, retrieving a key. He frowned at Cody, swaying slightly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And you should sit down,” Cody continued, sighing as the general walked towards him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Jare’la jetii.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kenobi did smile then. He didn’t stop walking, either. “I know what that means.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kneeling down beside the bedroll again, he reached for the binders. Cody pulled his hands away, rolling onto his back to put some measure of distance between them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good,” Cody shot back, in a rare insubordinate mood. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Well.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Okay. Maybe it was a little funny. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t. General—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“As I said, you’re a poor liar.” Kenobi grabbed his arm, slotting the key in between the binders. They loosened and fell away, clattering to the floor. “And if this is a deception act, it’s a terrible one.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cody’s arms fell to his sides and he sighed. At least the pinch at his wrists were gone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kenobi patted his chest again. Still no wave of calm came with it. It was just a touch. “Sleep now, Commander.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Only if you do.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The general nodded his head from side to side, as if still considering it. “I should,” he reasoned eventually.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cody frowned. Why the hesitation? It certainly wasn’t out of sheer stubbornness; Kenobi wasn’t that foolhardy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He realised then that he wasn’t afraid of being found in the cave, or even being shot. That would be easy to deal with. But it was a reasonable concern; it made much more sense than apathy right now. The general would be wise to be cautious.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s not my fear,” Kenobi said, though Cody hadn’t voiced his thoughts aloud. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then what is?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He bowed his head. Cody almost didn’t catch his response.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Being too late,” he whispered. It could’ve been a stray echo in the cave. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cody nodded, even though it hurt. He didn’t need the Force to know with whom the general’s thoughts lay. “We can’t do anything right now,” he whispered back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes.” A slow exhale. “What a horrifying thought.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kenobi offered him another smile then, entirely empty and unconvincing to even the most unfamiliar of strangers. That, Cody was terrified of.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sleep,” he insisted, nearly a plea. “Sir.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I will. I promise,” he added, seeing Cody’s forceful glance. “You do the same.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’ll figure something out,” he assured the general, with as much conviction as he could muster. “Sir.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kenobi nodded. It was the last thing he saw for a while.</span>
</p>
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